


My Something To Believe In

by Amberly



Series: Just Like Heaven [23]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: A Healthy Argument, M/M, fluff-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:21:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27142372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberly/pseuds/Amberly
Summary: It’s already better, even if Wufei does feel a flicker of sadness as his husband steps out of the kitchen and into the hall. He lets it come. Lets it pass. Reminds himself that Duo’s feelings are nothing to do with him and goes back to dinner. What he was going to cook is out the window. Wufei is learning to be flexible. He sets the chicken back into the fridge for tomorrow and focuses on comfort food, instead. Makes one of Duo’s favorites because it’s all that he can do. Neither of them need to be fixed. They just need support--need to learn how to step around each other on bad days without walking on eggshells, how to talk without every conversation being a minefield. Some days, Wufei is better at this than others.
Relationships: Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell
Series: Just Like Heaven [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/405643
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	My Something To Believe In

**Author's Note:**

> Listen. There's angst. But it's hopeful angst. It's "We're going to figure this out, together" angst and then it's sweet and fluffy, and I hope that it makes up for it. 
> 
> Listen I have a lot of super sappy feelings about learning how to communicate with someone you love and care about in a healthy way and no good words for it. 
> 
> Thank you to those reading. This sandbox has grown so much bigger than I ever intended it to be and I have no regrets at all. I couldn't have done it without you. Yes, you. Specifically.

It’s not the sound. No. It’s that Wufei can feel the moment Duo gets home. The door is quiet. There’s silence as he puts down his things, the lack so sharp that Wufei knows he could cut himself on it. And there’s something about it--something about Duo, the way he feels like a black hole. A slow creep of dread seeps over him. He knows this mood. Knows the way Duo goes empty and can’t figure out how to fill it, can’t figure out what pieces fit best into the holes inside of him. When Duo shuffles into the room with his head bowed, shoulders slumped, Wufei’s heart breaks. Wufei’s heart breaks and he feels the first flicker of anxiety, that he’s done something wrong, that he’ll do something wrong, that Duo won’t want him and he--cuts it off.  
  
“Hello, love,” Wufei says, quietly. Waits as his husband shuffles across the room and wraps his arms around his waist. Wufei tenses and then wraps his arms around Duo's shoulders. Squeezes tight and presses a soft kiss to his hairline. This, he knows, is not personal. This, he knows, is the price Duo pays for the peace in the Earthsphere he gave to everyone else. Wufei runs a hand over his hair and holds him and knows that it’s the only thing he can do. There’s no way to reach into Duo’s chest and pull the darkness out. All he can do is sit with him. Duo sighs and pulls away. Runs his hand over his hair.  
  
“I’m going to spend some time in the studio.” It’s quiet. Wufei nods and touches his cheek. Accepts the wan, forced smile for what it is--the best that Duo can give him right now.  
  
“Shall I bring you dinner?”  
  
“Sure,” Duo says. “Knock first.” 

“Of course,” Wufei agrees, bowing his head in acquiescence. He lets Duo slide out of his arms like silt and watches as he starts to wind his braid into a bun. It’s not that Duo’s going to paint. It’s that Duo’s going to contain his feelings in concrete. Keep them to himself until he’s battled them down to a size he can manage. To something that will fit out of his mouth when Wufei asks him, finally, if he wants to talk about it. They are learning how to balance the need for space with the need to talk, and Wufei will do nothing but the work for as long as it takes.  
  
It’s already better, even if Wufei does feel a flicker of sadness as his husband steps out of the kitchen and into the hall. He lets it come. Lets it pass. Reminds himself that Duo’s feelings are nothing to do with him and goes back to dinner. What he was going to cook is out the window. Wufei is learning to be flexible. He sets the chicken back into the fridge for tomorrow and focuses on comfort food, instead. Makes one of Duo’s favorites because it’s all that he can do. Neither of them need to be fixed. They just need support--need to learn how to step around each other on bad days without walking on eggshells, how to talk without every conversation being a minefield. Some days, Wufei is better at this than others.  
  
They are both trying, and the fierceness with which his husband refuses to give up is sometimes the only thing that gets Wufei through it. The way Duo will sit with him, after, dissect a conversation and open up, slowly and painfully and not always finding the right words but trying until they figure it out. Their lives are sometimes painful conversations interrupted by moments of soft laughter. Of Duo’s hands on his and the look in his eyes that tells Wufei he believes they are worth fighting for. That tells Wufei more than any word that Duo would walk into flames and worse for his sake to keep the bruised love between them safe, and Wufei does everything he can to make sure he knows it’s mutual, that Wufei is fighting just as hard, would go to the same lengths, and it works. Somehow, it works.  
  
There is tomato soup and grilled cheese and Wufei grabs a bottle of water. Sets it all on a tray and makes his way to Duo’s studio. It’s tucked away in the corner, opposite their bedroom. Wufei designed it with care and attention to detail, knowing how much Duo needed the space. The same way he needs space, has his study upstairs for when he wants to escape and spend time alone. Duo’s studio is concrete floors and bare walls. There’s windows at one side, letting in morning light, and a rolling door at one side that Duo can open, if he’s doing metal work. If he needs afternoon light. He’s proud of it, and even more proud of how much Duo liked it. Likes it.  
  
Duo, he knows, probably isn’t painting. He’s probably gazing out the windows, or looking up through the skylight, flat on his back as he tries to pull his feelings back into himself. To stop leaking them all through the house. Wufei appreciates it. It’s not as easy as it sounds and it’s not that Duo’s ever able to completely stop the leak. It’s that Duo tries. Knows how much his feelings can spill over and into other people and takes what steps he can. He knocks softly. Carefully. Wufei waits a few moments and opens the door.  
  
“What--” Duo bolts upright from where he’s sprawled on the floor and looks at him, shocked. As if Wufei had walked in on him doing something wrong, caught him naked with someone else and there is definitely anger there. Anger, and betrayal, and Wufei’s stomach plummets. “What the fuck, Wufei.”   
  
“I knocked,” Wufei says. It’s a little defensive. He carefully puts down the tray at the inside of the door. “Dinner. I’m going to be in my office.” Hastily, he shuts the door, feeling wrongfooted. He’d knocked and thought no more about it, and even if Duo hadn’t been clear. Well. Wufei runs a hand over his face. He takes a deep breath and heads back to the kitchen. Collects his own dinner and makes his way up the stairs. It’s not tomato soup and grilled cheese, but it is soup. His own comfort food, and a cup of tea.  
  
At the door of his office he hesitates. He wants to shut the door. He wants to lock himself away and avoid a fight. It’s instinctive, the need to protect himself. The problem is--the fight might not be coming. He can’t predict what Duo will do, and Wufei knows that it’s not his job to do that. His job is to not cut himself off. His job is to keep the door open, keep himself open, and give Duo his space, and he reminds himself of this as he sits down in one of the large chairs by the window. He has soup, and a book, and Duo will come to talk or he won’t, and if he doesn’t, Wufei will figure it out then. Even if it feels wrong to say these things, he says them. Opens his book and tries to put his focus on it instead of waiting.  
  
His plan, when he makes one, is simple: Duo comes to him, or he goes to Duo. Knocks and _waits_ this time for Duo to tell him to enter. Apologizes and makes a request for clearer communication. It’s simple and it’s one of the most terrifying things Wufei has ever committed himself to doing, right up there next to the time he went out into the garden, took Duo’s face between his hands and kissed him on purpose without the adrenaline. Without the intense needwant that had shadowed their first kiss.It takes forty five minutes for Duo to show up. Wufei isn’t counting, exactly, he just knows. His soup is finished, empty bowl on the table next to him. The sun has gone down and he’s reading by lamplight, glasses perched on his nose and anxiety perched in his chest.  
  
“May I come in?” Duo asks at the door. Wufei feels so relieved he wants to cry. This, he thinks, is the reward for trusting. He closes his book and gestures to the empty armchair next to him. 

“Of course.” There’s a pause. The starting is the worst, because neither of them want to interrupt the other. Don’t have the hang of pauses and stops just yet, the way a silence sounds different when it’s a search for the right word. Duo smiles, a tense, fragile thing, and sits. Folds his hands in his laps and takes a breath before he looks at Wufei. Makes eye contact in small little bursts. He is trying and Wufei knows this. Cradles it close.  
  
“Thank you for making dinner. I appreciate that you made my favorite,” Duo says at last. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. That wasn’t fair of me. I didn’t tell you to wait, I just told you to knock.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” Wufei replies, sincere. When he smiles at Duo it’s warm even if it is a little worn around the edges. “I apologize for not waiting. I will make sure to ask, in the future, if I’m not sure.” He pauses for a moment. Searches for words for what he wants to say next. It’s not that he doesn’t want Duo to have space. He’d be a hypocrite. It is that he wants Duo to feel supported. Slowly, he reaches out. Takes Duo’s hand and squeezes it. “I appreciate that you took the space you needed today. I’m proud of you for recognizing and honoring that need.”  
  
There are several moments of quiet. Duo works his jaw and clings to Wufei’s hand, and there’s clearly something there, that Duo wants to say, and Wufei is patient. He can wait as long as he needs to for this. They are learning a new language and learning it together, and there’s something about that, about the together, that Wufei clings to in the moments when it seems like it’s going to be too much. Too many things to remember and balance and the patience, Wufei knows, is what Duo needs. What they both need. They sit in silence and Wufei rubs his thumb against the back of Duo’s hand. Waits.  
  
“Thank you.” Duo looks over at him. Turns his hand over and links their fingers together. Duo brings his hand up, brushes his lips against it, and Wufei is glad they talked about that, first. Talked about their mutual need to touch, to be grounded together when they talk it out. The same fear of abandonment is settled in each of them and it helps, he knows. Even when they need space, even when they’re angry, there’s the same fear, and Wufei doesn’t know how many times they’ve argued holding hands. Sitting across from each other on the couch and touching only their feet together. 

“When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here,” Wufei says and means it. “Do you want to watch a movie together tonight?” There’s a slow smile. Duo shoots him a sideways look that is tentative and hopeful.

“I dunno. Do I get to pick?”   
  
“The things I do for you.” Wufei heaves a sigh. Rolls sparkling eyes and then stands, shaking his head. He holds his hand out to Duo. “You can pick the movie. But you also have to make the popcorn.”

“What?” Duo’s outrage is exaggerated and playful as he takes Wufei’s hand. Stands and draws him in, wrapping Wufei’s arm around his waist in a request for affection he couldn't deny if he tried. It’s a soft kiss. Duo’s lips are chapped and he tastes like tomato soup and Wufei has never been so hungry for something. There are fingers in his hair, a warm body against his and he rumbles with pleasure, low and deep in his chest. Nips softly at Duo’s lip as he pulls back. It could be this easy every time. They’re working toward that goal together and it softens him in places he’d never even realizes were hard.  
  
“Popcorn, Duo. I’ll queue the movie. What are we watching?” 

"Princess Bride?” Duo asks, shooting him a sideways look. Wufei smiles.  
  
“As you wish.” 


End file.
